


feel the same tug

by dude_dude_dude



Category: Actor RPF, South Park RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Coming In Pants, Finger Sucking, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Translation Available, collarbone kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dude_dude_dude/pseuds/dude_dude_dude
Summary: Their eyes met, and they both knew without a word what this was. They weren’t teasing anymore. If Matt wanted to stop, he could. All he had to do was sit back, pick up his beer again, and everything would return to normal. But he didn’t.
Relationships: Trey Parker/Matt Stone
Comments: 21
Kudos: 35





	feel the same tug

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the filming of _BASEketball_. 
> 
> Title is from ‘Stranger’ by Leo Kalyan, which I pretty much listened to on repeat while writing this.
> 
> Thank you LazyBoy245 for translating this story into Brazillian Portuguese! You can read the translation [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/244554389-one-shot-sinto-o-mesmo-impulso).

Everyone had a sweet spot, that special place where, if touched, made it hard to think straight. Strangely enough, Trey’s was his collarbones. It all started when he made out with a drunk chick at a house party (when he was far too young to be invited to one), and she unbuttoned his top two shirt buttons to make him look “less nerdy.” Her fingertips tracing his newly exposed clavicles had him popping a boner almost instantly. 

The sweet spot had come up in conversation a few times with Matt, who’d always been a closed book about that area of life compared to Trey’s graphic blabbering about his every sexual encounter. Trey assumed his friend’s sweet spot was embarrassing, like his taint or something; maybe it was weird, like behind his ears. As it turned out, it wasn’t embarrassing at all, it was just easy to find. 

Matt brought it up himself the night before they were due to film the kissing scene. He said it so casually that Trey barely even thought about the connotations at first, but it was most definitely a confession. 

“So, tomorrow,” Matt said, tapping his fingernails on the neck of his beer bottle, “don’t bit my lips, okay?”

“Okay.” Trey didn’t even look away from their trailer’s cruddy little box TV. “Why?”

Matt’s only response for a while was tapping his beer. No pattern or rhythm. Just the repetitive clink, clink, clink of fingernails on glass until Trey finally turned to look at him, prompting him to say, “It’s gonna sound fucked up . . .”

Trey’s face lit up encouragingly. “I love fucked up!” Though, when he realised Matt’s hang-up might’ve been something traumatic, he turned his smile down a bit. 

Matt shrugged, sipped on his beer. “Actually, I don’t wanna make it weird.” 

Trey scoffed. “It’ll be weird anyway.” 

“It uh, turns me on.” He was in full peel-the-beer-label-off mode now, avoiding eye-contact and everything. “I don’t wanna get . . . you know . . . excited, on camera.”

“Understood,” Trey said, saluting and turning back to the TV. 

There was some awkwardness, then: Matt clearing his throat and grabbing another beer from the overly bright mini fridge, Trey biting his tongue to stop himself asking _how_ excited a bit of lip biting could make him. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as full blown as Trey’s collarbone thing. Matt was probably exaggerating. Whatever the circumstances, Trey’s cheeks were getting hot at the thought of accidentally giving Matt a boner with something so simple. But he wouldn’t overstep his boundaries. That would be a dick move. He’d just have to remember not to do something that came naturally to him. 

*

The kiss went well. They needed four takes, which, for them, was nothing short of a miracle. The first was the best. It was more spontaneous, more natural, and didn’t look as rehearsed as the others. They’d replace their brief giggle with a shot of fireworks or something. And they’d most definitely cut the audio. Their unplanned OTT moaning was supposed to make it funnier, but it ended up making it look like a porno with high production values.

Trey behaved as promised. He didn’t bite Matt’s lips, though he suspected Matt _probably_ got a semi like he had—the exhibitionist in him was probably a big part of that. If Matt didn’t get a semi, then he probably noticed Trey did, but like a true gent, he hadn’t mentioned it. Not on set at least. 

With a few beers in him, Matt was looser, less of the restrained, controlled person that usually balanced out whatever mood Trey was in. They were in their trailer, again, sat in almost the same positions as last night when Matt asked him not to bite his lips. Matt prodded him in the thigh.

“You should’ve told me,” Matt said, a tipsy slant to his smile. He gave Trey a knowing look that he didn’t understand, and his confusion must’ve been evident, because he clarified: “What’d I do?” Or at least he’d tried to clarify. 

“What’re you talking about?” 

Matt tutted playfully. “When we kissed. Duh.”

“Huh?” 

After a long slug of beer, Matt said, “Thanks for not biting my lips.” 

Trey squinted, trying and failing to thread the conversation together in his head. “You’re welcome?”

“But what’d I do?” Just when Trey was about to chalk this one up to a loss, because maybe Matt was more inebriated than he appeared, Matt finally asked the question he’d managed to avoid asking up until now. “What gave you a boner?”

Right. Yep. Matt was definitely more inebriated than he appeared. But what the hell, they’d always been open with each other, Trey wasn’t about to stop now. 

“I dunno. Human nature.” He shrugged. “And you’re a good kisser.” 

“You think so?” Matt lifted his chin proudly. 

“I mean, I thought you were gonna suffocate me a few times, but yeah, a solid seven out of ten.” 

Matt laughed. “I thought I’d found your turn-on by accident, like my biting thing.” 

So that’s what he was on about. 

Trey shook his head. “Don’t worry. You kept clear of my turn-on.” He pointed to his chest, because Matt knew about it. He probably needed reminding. It wasn’t like he’d retain that kind of information when it was entirely irrelevant to their friendship. “But biting gets you going, huh?” He smirked. “You absolute sicko.” 

“It’s not . . . exactly that.” 

“Then.” Trey frowned. “Why did you—”

Matt shooed him with his hand. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

“Who am I gonna tell?” Trey threw up his hands and looked around the trailer dramatically. It was just the two of them. Like always. 

“I might’ve gone a bit overboard with the tongue ‘cause . . . I was hoping it’d stop you doing it.”

Trey started. “Hey, I gave as good as I got!” 

“Yeah, but anything more and I’d’ve . . . requested a recess, if you know what I mean.” 

Trey couldn’t stop himself staring at Matt’s mouth. They _were_ talking about it, so who could blame him? “So it’s, anything to do with your lips?”

Matt nodded. “Yup. It’s kind of annoying.” 

Made sense why. Matt had never been one for public displays of affection with his few girlfriends. No wonder, if a basic kiss could give him a rager. Surely he’d have acclimatised to kissing by now? Also, Trey had spent almost fifteen minutes making out with him today. If that didn’t get him off, then what did? He kind of had to ask at this point. 

“What exactly is it?” 

Like he’d suddenly sobered up, Matt looked away and started turning his beer against the arm of the sofa. “You ask way too many questions.”

“You can’t make all this fuss and then not tell me, dude!”

“I guess it’s anything focused on my lips.” Matt swallowed like it was difficult, as if just talking about this was crossing an intimacy barrier that they’d never set clearly between them before. “Biting them. Licking them. Touching them.”

“In that order?”

Matt’s laugh, just a breath, broke the tension a little. “I’m not fussy.” He sipped his beer. “I suppose it’s the same for you, right?” He tilted his forehead in the direction of Trey’s collarbones. “You’ll take anything?”

“I resent that,” Trey said in mock indignation, hand on his hip. Despite its subject matter, the conversation was edging back towards their comfortable, friendly normalcy.

“What is it about your collarbones?” Matt said, staring at Trey’s neck obviously. “How do you like it?” 

Suddenly self-conscious, Trey shifted in his seat. “I thought I was the one who asked too many questions.” Even the weight of Matt’s gaze on him was getting to be too much right now.

“I think I’d like having a way to get your attention.” Matt smirked. “You never button your shirts properly anyway.”

Trey was sure that out of the planet’s populace, Matt was the one who got most of his attention, but that kind of remark couldn’t be allowed to stand. Matt couldn’t suggest he’d use his weakness against him, because two could play that game. Teasing, almost hopeful, he said, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I dunno, man. You can get pretty distracted sometimes. I’d like having some kryptonite in my back pocket for emergencies.”

“See, I’d have some too though, wouldn’t I?” He reached up and briefly touched a fingertip to Matt’s closed, smiling mouth. “As easy as that.” 

Matt shook his head. “I’m not a fucking Mormon. I don’t fall apart at the slightest touch.” Pushing Trey’s own buttons back, he touched between the opened leaves of Trey’s collar, sliding his finger into the concave dip between his collarbones to prove that one touch wasn’t enough. Only, it was enough for Trey. 

The tiny gasp that escaped Trey’s lips was almost inaudible, but Matt was close enough to hear it. He pulled his hand away, face turning serious as he whispered a fast apology. 

“S’okay,” Trey whispered, chasing the touch already, missing the heat of Matt’s skin. Swallowing, he took Matt’s hand and placed it back on his exposed skin. “You didn’t do it right.” 

Their eyes met, and they both knew without a word what this was. They weren’t teasing anymore. If Matt wanted to stop, he could. All he had to do was sit back, pick up his beer again, and everything would return to normal. But he didn’t. The pad of his thumb moved a little, and Trey stopped breathing, staring at him, pleading wordlessly for him to touch him. 

This was somehow more serious than any of their conversation. Because it involved touch. Touch was real. Matt’s thumb stroking Trey’s collarbone was real—amazingly so. 

“Is this right?” Matt whispered, close enough that Trey felt his breath on his lips. 

“Yeah.”

When Matt’s fingers slipped beneath his shirt, Trey swallowed and gasped, closing his eyes, entrusting him with such intimacy. After all they’d done today, this was nothing really. This wasn’t their tongues in each other’s mouths (though, that was an idea.) But that kiss was on camera, for camera. It existed to make the stoner teenagers who’d watch this film laugh. This was a whole world of different. 

He hadn’t been trying not to get hard, but the implications were mildly concerning if he did. It only took Matt kneading where his skin pulled taught over the bones for it to happen. Trey bit his lip, hissing quietly as Matt’s touch felt so intense it might as well have been directly on his dick. 

“You like that?” Matt asked, and Trey cracked his eyes open to nod. The expression on Matt’s face was one he’d never seen his friend make before: a sort of desperate intrigue, almost asking _is this as good for you as it is for me?_

And oh, yeah, he was being pretty selfish about all this, wasn’t he? Reaching up into the small space between their faces, Trey pressed his thumb against Matt’s open mouth and pulled his lower lip down. Watching, fascinated, he drew the tip along the inside, then, wet with Matt’s saliva, over the points of his top lip. His lips were soft, and the fact that he knew that already but in a very different way, only made Trey harder. 

Matt was frozen, his hand motionless against Trey’s chest, his mouth stuck half open as Trey played with it. Just as Trey had trusted him, Matt closed his eyes. He’d said what he liked, hadn’t he? Touching. Licking. Biting. Biting being the big kahuna, probably. Hooking his thumb over Matt’s bottom set of teeth, Trey pulled him in close by his jaw. Matt could pull away if he wanted. 

Seemed Matt didn’t want to. He was nothing like he was on camera when their lips met. No manic tonguing, just a calm trust in Trey to do what he desperately wanted right now but had specifically denied previously. And Trey was going to give it to him. 

Sucking Matt’s bottom lip was shockingly arousing yet somehow completely comfortable. Trey melted into the kiss, sliding both hands into Matt’s hair instinctively to hold him there, remind him how much he wanted to do this, how surprisingly into experimenting he was. Then he pressed his teeth into Matt’s lip with the tiniest amount of pressure and—

“Fu-u-ck . . .” Matt’s hand came up around the back of Trey’s neck, fingertips digging into his nape. 

Trey nibbled gently, chasing the bite with a swipe of his tongue, and Matt swore again, louder this time, moaning against his teeth. He knew without looking that Matt was hard; the arousal practically radiated off him in waves. Trey totally got off on that control too, for the moment, mesmerised by how the tiniest lick had Matt trembling like a purring cat, stunned and panting and fixated on his tongue. Any semblance of control left him when he pulled away and bowed his head, lips settling between Trey’s open shirt to kiss along the length of his left clavicle. 

The strangled sound Trey made would’ve been embarrassing if anyone besides Matt heard it. He’d never had much of an issue being vulnerable in front of Matt, and this was more vulnerable than he’d ever felt, because he couldn’t stop his hips arching up into nothing or his hands clawing at Matt’s shoulders as his hot tongue slid out to lick the shapes his bones pressed up out of his skin. 

“That’s . . .” Trey’s voice trembled, rasping out of his throat. He swallowed and wet his lips, trying to hold back a whimper balanced on the tip of his tongue. “So fucking good, man.” 

Matt started sucking at the thin skin, dragging his teeth along it, and Trey had to push him back. He did it gently, and almost didn’t have enough strength to, but Matt got the hint and sat up again. At his slightly concerned expression, Trey told him he needed a breather, code for: I’m mildly concerned I’m about to come in my pants like a thirteen-year-old. 

“Hope you haven’t given me a hickey,” Trey breathed, dropping his head back against the sofa. 

“I haven’t,” Matt said, slumping beside him. “Kinda wish I had though.” 

That deep-rooted exhibitionism flared in Trey’s gut. He turned to Matt, their faces close. “’Cause people would see it?”

“Yeah. And they’d never guess who put it there.” 

That was an amazingly interesting idea, but, “I can’t have a hickey while we’re filming.” Makeup existed, obviously, but he didn’t want the girls’ questioning of _who’s the lucky lady?_ all next morning when he had lines to remember. 

“I don’t wanna be crude,” Matt said, laughing at how ridiculous that sounded, “but I’m hard as a fucking rock right now.” 

“Me too.” 

As he reached across to touch Matt’s lips again, Matt stopped him. He cocked his head, gesturing for him to come closer, and when Trey didn’t get it, said, “Lay on my lap?”

Trey was instantly nervous, even if he’d been in that position before. Using Matt’s thighs as a pillow was convenient when a sofa was too small, when he wanted to read him a script, or when he was trying to stop him from leaving, but he’d never had a hard-on on those occasions, and they’d never just made out. 

“Why?”

“Do I really have to spell it out?”

Trey winced. “Maybe?” 

“I like the idea of,” —Matt’s gaze dipped to Trey’s crotch, up to his collar, then back into his eyes— “everything being in reach.”

“Oh.” Trey felt a little lightheaded at Matt’s bluntness. So far, they’d skirted around the actual outcome of this, but that was unmistakable, and Trey was already shuffling over, positioning himself as requested. 

“Weren’t your hands going somewhere?” Matt asked, the question concealing a command as Trey stared up at him helplessly. 

Reaching up, alarmed by how much he liked being told what to do, Trey touched the edge of Matt’s bottom lip with two fingers and eased it down. Matt bent, sucking them into his mouth to the second knuckle, and Trey’s dick throbbed with how that typically submissive action turned out to be both possessive and confident when Matt did it, like Trey’s fingers now belonged to him for him to do with as he pleased. 

Withdrawing his fingers from the hot depths of Matt’s mouth, Trey drew wet lines over his lips, transfixed. Matt cursed again, nibbling the tip of Trey’s finger. His cheeks held a high pink, his eyelids fluttering with enjoyment as Trey kept at it, circling his lips before taking hold of his jaw and pushing his thumb inside. 

Trey’s reward was Matt’s hand sweeping up his sternum, following the line of his buttoned shirt until it parted into that open ‘V’. He stroked his chest hair, drawing lines through it with his fingertips like Trey was a beloved pet, intentionally ignoring his collarbones until Trey thought he might explode. 

“Mmm,” Matt hummed, sucking leisurely on Trey’s thumb. “Want me to touch you?” 

Assuming he meant his collarbones—because the tease of Matt not touching them was almost physically painful—Trey hurried a pathetic “Please” while still playing with Matt’s lips. His hand fell away when Matt’s slid down between his legs, palming over the fat bulge of his dick and making him whimper in shock. 

Matt’s other hand brushed through his hair, sweeping it out of his face and over the top of his head before holding him in place by it. Trey let him; he had no plans to move out of this exquisitely comfortable position, stretched out like a whore on Matt’s lap with wet fingers and an impressively hard dick. 

Arching into Matt’s hand, he lost all semblance of dignity. His dick ached, pinned against his belly by his pants and now Matt’s touch, the pleasurable sensation prickling down his thighs. He reached blindly for Matt’s mouth, moaning as Matt took his wrist and led it to his lips. When he sucked his fingers, he was sucking on Trey’s dick, the wet slide of his lips over his knuckles enveloping him down to his balls in his imagination. 

“Kiss me?” Matt asked, still holding Trey’s trembling wrist. 

It required a little shuffling to accomplish, but Trey shifted himself until he was basically sat across Matt's lap, one arm slung over his shoulder as Matt leant in and tongued his mouth, rubbing bliss into his clothed dick. 

Trey knew what to do. As his climax approached, he sucked Matt’s lips, bit them hard, licked them lightly, enthralled by the way Matt’s dick twitched against the side of his thigh.

“Fuck,” Matt gasped, hand freezing on Trey’s crotch as Trey practically chewed on his top lip. “Oh fuck don’t stop!” 

Matt stopped breathing, hips shuddering under Trey’s weight. Trey lapped at his mouth, frozen momentarily in that half-open state, waiting for it. And then there it was: Matt coming in his pants in a jerky gasp, clawing at Trey’s waist as he moaned in a pitch higher than he’d sounded all evening, or ever. It was . . . probably the hottest sound Trey had ever heard. Hot enough to shock him into forgetting how desperately he needed to come too, because all that mattered right now was Matt. 

Once Matt had recovered, his fingers crawled up Trey’s front, seeking that special place again. He pushed Trey’s shirt back so he could get at them, feeling along the bones, tracing circles over their sharp edges until Trey had to touch himself for some relief from the pleasure. 

Noticing, Matt watched Trey’s hand slip under his waistline, disappearing up to his wrist. Turning back to Trey, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, bending to suck at his neck, over his Adam’s apple as his head lolled back, then down to where he wanted it the most while Trey thought he might faint from how fast he was panting and how good it felt.

As the tip of Matt’s tongue dipped into the spot between his collarbones, Trey came, dick pulsing in his grip as Matt held him. He had nothing to hide anymore, if he ever had. His mouth opened wide as he moaned through the throbbing waves of bliss, Matt’s name sliding off his tongue as he grabbed a fistful of his curls and crushed his face against his chest. 

Collapsing in exhaustion, muscles like liquid, Trey let Matt pull him up so his head rested on his shoulder, body cradled in his lap. Matt’s heart pounded through his chest and Trey pressed his palm against it to ground himself as slowly, very slowly, he came back to earth. 

“That was . . .” Trey said, before his mind had even finished the sentence. Incredible? Insane? Incredibly insane?

“Yeah,” Matt answered for him. “It was.” He fingered along the edge of Trey’s shirt collar, gently folding the fabric back into place and flattening it over his shoulders. It was such a soft, gentle gesture, putting Trey right again, and Trey felt himself glowing under the loving attention.

Trey smiled when Matt’s hand rested on his thigh. “So, which one of us is Lex Luthor?”

“Huh?”

“Kryptonite,” Trey reminded him.

“Oh. Didn’t realise it was a competition.” If it was, they’d both won. 

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” He nestled into Matt’s neck, relaxing against him. Matt tensed a little. “Am I heavy?”

“Yeah. I don’t care.” 

“Good. ‘Cause I’m not moving.” 

Trey fought off the urge to fall asleep against Matt’s shoulder. It was hard, because nothing made him want to pass out like a good orgasm, but he didn’t want to wake up with a crick in his neck or make Matt’s leg go dead. And Matt didn’t seem that sleepy either. In fact, he’d reached for the remote and started flicking through channels like it was absolutely normal and totally not weird to have his best friend curled on his lap while they both smelled of semen and sweat and knew what the other sounded like when they came.

“Aw, man,” Matt said, feeling along the arm of the chair behind Trey’s back. “I think you knocked my beer over.” 

“Want me to get you another one?” Trey asked, eying the mini fridge. He could do with a cold one himself, even if he kind of didn’t want to move out of this spot, ever. 

“I should shower,” Matt said, casually stroking Trey’s hip. For some reason, that small touch had Trey’s skin on fire again. 

“Don’t use all the water.” 

They’d had this problem before when it came to sharing trailers that they weren’t really supposed to stay in overnight. The on-site water ran out quickly, and it was rarely hot either. It didn’t help that Matt was one of those people who took three times as long as normal people when he showered. 

Crawling back across the sofa, Trey watched Matt wipe up his spilled beer and chuck the bottle before he disappeared into the en suite. Everything felt normal, and that normality somehow felt . . . off. What he expected, he didn’t know. Maybe he thought they’d discuss what had happened, seriously, and decide it should never happen again. Or perhaps Matt would apologise and blame it on the drink. Trey wondered if he should say something while the hiss of the shower added to the nervous static in his brain. But what would he say? 

The realisation of what he needed to say came to him when Matt stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, his hair wet and flat against his head. He didn’t need to say anything, because nothing had changed, not really, and that was fine.


End file.
